Disclaimer: I don't own anything in Once Upon a Time or Bleach.
Summary: Somehow, someway, her life has become entwined with Kurosaki Ichigo's, a more voluntary than necessary choice. And even though the strange Japanese ("Dude, you can't be one hundred percent Asian! You just said your hair's natural!" "Well sorry to destroy your world views, but I'm not mixed. Now eat your dinner brat.") is impatient, brusque, and answers in grunts, he always has two hot meals on the table and crooked smiles in spares. It may not be the white picket fence life she's always dreamed about, but it's home.
Note: Okay, so apparently this just became a thing. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and hope for the best! Please leave behind lots of kudos and reviews when you leave!
He was a complete fruit loop.
The impression didn't wear off for her, though she had to admit he didn't seem like such a bad guy overall. He hadn't called the police when he had every right to. And to top it all off, he fed her and didn't force her to tell her story like so many have tried to do.
("Ichigo Kurosaki." Ichigo introduced himself with a gruff tone after finishing off his dry bagel and black coffee. Emma wondered how the man could eat so little compared to her. She had went all out since the man seemed willing to pay and had ordered honest-to-god pancakes with hash browns, two eggs, a stuffed omelet, and orange juice at the side. She couldn't remember the last time she ate so much since running away from the orphanage.
She hesitated for a brief second, which earned a daringly raised eyebrow from Ichigo who was directly sitting across her from his booth seat. At the sight, she couldn't help but recklessly blurt out, "Emma."
She wanted to wipe away that look on his face and immediately regretted it the minute she did.
Ichigo didn't make a big deal out of it and simply nodded, his regarding look neutral. Emma didn't know how to feel about that.)
At the end of the day, the man took one look at her shivering form and sighed before pulling off his thick, army green jacket and draping it across her shoulders. She had stared at him, shocked to the bone. She probably would've stood there gaping all day if Ichigo hadn't sardonically commented how she looked like a fish out of water. She snapped out of it and retorted back, hiding the conflicting, confusing warmth that spread to her toes.
Briefly, she contemplated the idea that the guy wasn't real. Seriously, what real life person does the things he do?
He merely nodded with satisfaction after she reluctantly dug her arms into the sleeves. And boy, the jacket was seriously warm and comfortable. The lingering body heat smothered her skin, along with the scent of hotel soap and the coffee Ichigo just drank. It was strangely comforting in a way.
His eyes turned sharp when shortly evaluating her. She felt exposed in a way she never felt before, as if he could see every flaw and lie she tries to cover up. She shifted her feet with extreme discomfort, a motion that seemed to break Ichigo's concentration as he blinked, the intensity falling away much to her relief.
"Try not to get into too much trouble kid." Were his final words before turning and walking away, his leaving abrupt. She didn't even get the chance to say anything back, a fact that pissed her off. But somehow, like Houdini, he was already gone.
A month passed with Ichigo persisting at the back of her mind. One time, she had almost chased down a tall man wearing an orange hat, her feet already taking a few steps forward before stopping when realizing her mistake. She stood there, silently watching the man walk away and couldn't stop the image of Ichigo doing the same overlapping her vision.
She cursed at ever meeting the mystifying man and firmly continued to try to erase him from her memories. She refused to acknowledge the tiny part of herself that had felt excitement jolt in her veins at the terrifying hope of meeting the strange man again.
After a month of dodging the police (and him), she managed to get distracted by a girl named Lily who was in the same boat as her. The bottomless, craving loneliness that ached her soul seemed to lessen when she was around the laughing, mischievous black haired teen. It was exhilarating and honestly fun in a way she hadn't felt in a long time.
And then just like that, it was over. Like many good things in her life.
Betrayal and bitterness twisted her gut like a knife as she watched a sobbing Lily drive away with her father, which was a lot more than Emma had going for her. The people from social services were watching her closely as she slowly made her way to the car.
There. She thought viciously as she turned around and walked away, not once glancing back. Who needs her. I can take care of myself. I always do.
Fierce brown eyes that flickered like flames flashed before her vision, along with a shark-like grin that both challenged and irked her in equal measures.
She stopped in her tracks and ruthlessly started to take off the jacket she's been wearing ever since he had carefully covered it over her frame. She bunched it up and threw her arm back to toss it.
"Try not to get into too much trouble kid."
She put it back on and went in the car.
~A~
The second time they met, Emma honestly didn't expect to see the orange haired man again.
The orphanage she had been sent to didn't tolerate her independent streak and most of the caretakers disapproved of her 'snarky, disobedient attitude'. She was given chores like washing the dishes, taking out the trash, and sweeping the floor more than anyone to keep her 'busy'. She was watched constantly to the point Emma wanted to strangle someone.
More than once, she was tempted by the idea of bolting but unfortunately couldn't due to the surveillance. So she bided her time, waiting for the opportune moment to leave once someone slips up.
Ichigo's sudden appearance completely and utterly shattered that plan.
She was taking out the trash at the back of the building when she suddenly bumped into someone as she turned a corner, causing her to fall on her back with the bags unraveled and strewn about.
"Shit!" Emma snapped her head up with a withering glare ready on her face. "Watch where you're going you bast-"
She choked, the sight of Ichigo's raised eyebrow and neon orange hair making it suddenly hard to think, her mind backpedaling by a mile. For a second, she wildly thought he was some sort of hallucination and mentally slapped herself the moment she did. No mirage could be that solid.
"Watch your language brat." Were the first words in their second meeting. His brows furrowed with something resembling concern. "You okay?"
"No." she said automatically, her sass mouth on autopilot. "I would've been if you hadn't popped out of nowhere like a dandelion and bumped into me."
Like she predicted, an irritated scowl stretched the man's mouth – it said a lot that she was able to identify the type of scowls the man had, what was wrong with her – before his eye twitched in matching unison.
"Hah? Says the kid who's in a back alley in the middle of nowhere. What the hell are you even doing here?"
Emma gestured to the fallen trash that was starting to blow away from the slight, chilling breeze.
"Taking out the trash. Or are you blind from looking at your acid colored hair every day?" She sniped out. Ichigo's scowl morphed into a puzzled frown, like something she said bothered him, before smoothing into an apathetic expression. Much to Emma's bewilderment, the man crouched down and started to pick up the plastic cups and wrappers before stuffing it in one of the now nearly empty bags. Lurching up a brow at her bemusement, the man jerked his head in her direction.
"You going to help or sit there prettily while I do all the work for you?"
Emma glared at him. Nevertheless, she got up from her position and began to mimic his actions.
"Shut up."
A small smirk curled up the end of the man's mouth.
With Ichigo help, it took a lot less time for her to drop off the garbage at its designation. After a minute, she nearly did a double take when she saw that Ichigo was trailing her.
"Why are you following me?" she demanded, staring at him with warranted wariness. Ichigo shrugged, brushing off her aggressive tone and body language as easy as breathing. She had a strong suspicion he was used to people being hostile towards him. She didn't know how to take that.
"I'm not going to let you go off alone." Ichigo said calmly. Emma scoffed.
"You didn't have that problem before..." she muttered, causing Ichigo to come to a screeching halt. He turned to face her, his brown eyes deep and serious, sending a shiver up her spine.
"Would you have let me if I did?" he asked, tone low. As always, there was an undercurrent of challenge in his voice, daring her to argue against his words and intentions.
It was always like this with them she suddenly thought, struck by realization. A bold declaration or reprimanding from him that tested her temperament and her views until she couldn't help but respond back in kind, her stubborn nature not backing down and unable to break Ichigo's impenetrable wall of defense. It was both frustrating and intriguing in a way that made her want to rip her hair out.
This time, she fell silent at the face of it, admitting defeat just this once. Instead, she hefted one of the bags over her shoulder and simply muttered, "This way," before marching on ahead of him and away from his old-young eyes.
~A~
Ichigo, Emma could tell, was not impressed with the orphanage.
"What the hell's up with the wallpaper?" Ichigo remarked with disgust when met with splotching, sunny yellow that looked like someone threw up on the wall. The look on the caretaker's face at this remark made it very hard to hold back the twitching smile that was starting to break through on Emma's face.
"I-Excuse me, but what are you doing here?" the woman demanded, bristling like an offended cat. Emma's amusement died a quick death and she nearly bristled herself when she caught the repulsed expression directed towards Ichigo. Emma didn't get why until she realized what a picture they made. Ichigo, with his orange hair and delinquent looks, coming in with her and claiming to be a 'friend' of hers. While the assumption was kind of to be expected, a large part of her recoiled at the very idea with a startling amount of abhorrence.
Ichigo seemed to have caught the implication as well if the darkening scowl said anything.
"Like I said, I'm a friend of Emma's." Emma startled a bit when she realized this is the first time Ichigo ever said her name. It sounded strange coming from him, like a foreign language coming to life. "We bumped into each other and I escorted her back. Didn't know it was going to be at an orphanage."
The woman – her name may or may not be Lindsey, Emma wasn't sure – looked torn between incredulousness and suspicion.
"You claim you're her friend yet you didn't know she was an orphan?"
Ichigo shrugged.
"Didn't ask." Suddenly, a razor sharp smile took over the Japanese's features. "Mind if I check out Emma's room? I'm curious."
The question sounded more like he was informing her, not asking. Without even waiting for her answer, Ichigo looked to Emma with an expectant expression. Understanding the look, Emma started to drag him by the sleeve towards upstairs, leaving behind the spluttering Lindsey(?) in their wake.
They made it to the second floor before they finally reached Emma's room that was unfortunately shared with a girl named Sharon who spends more time with her nail polish than helping around the place. It didn't help she usually dumped all her work on Emma by acting as disgustingly sweet and polite as possible in front of the caretakers. They absolutely adored her and pretty much let her get away with anything.
When they entered, Emma waited with some trepidation as Ichigo's unreadable face didn't change as he took in the room. It was small and a bit cramped, but admittedly better than most places Emma has ended up in. The twin sized beds were against the plain, white walls, the room bare except for the necessities such as a small dresser (that was mostly taken up by Sharon) and a bedside table that had a small lamp on it. For Sharon's vanity sake, there was a mirror at her side of the room next to the door. There were no windows, no sign of the outside world beyond the white, jail-like room.
"It's better than most places I've been in." she couldn't help but defend. The silence from Ichigo's end unnerved her into a babbling mess. "Bigger than most rooms too. And the kids don't bother me that much, really."
Except Kevin, the house idiot that is. But Ichigo didn't need to know that.
Ichigo didn't say a word during her rant before curtly turning around and leaving the room. The sudden movement had her scrambling to keep up with his brisk pace as he went down the stairs.
"Hey, what the- What the hell's up with you all of the sudden? Where are you going?" she questioned, right at his heels. Ichigo's resolute answer nearly made her trip while going down the stairs.
"I'm going to adopt you."
~A~
The adoption process, as expected by anyone, was agonizingly long.
The social services and caretakers obviously didn't approve of Ichigo, considering his young age and the fact he was a foreigner, never mind the fact he gained his citizenship a year back apparently. His frank, straightforward attitude didn't win any favors either, though it did fluster them enough for them to be unable to argue against Ichigo's pointed reasoning and comebacks against their protestations.
It took a few weeks for the paperwork to go through, along with getting Ichigo's records and such since he was originally from Japan. During that time, Ichigo hung around the orphanage and sometimes helped Emma with her chores whenever she had them. The first few odd looks thrown at Ichigo lessened as time passed as people got used to the outsider's presence.
Emma will never forget the time Kevin tried to tease her when Ichigo went to get the cleaning supplies from the storage closet. He had been going on and on with the usual about her parents when suddenly Ichigo appeared like a specter, whole body looming over Kevin's pudgy body, who quaked in the face of Ichigo's wrath. The caretakers didn't dare to interrupt the scalding dressing-down Ichigo gave the large kid until afterwards when Kevin ran away bawling his eyes out like a baby. They reproached him for his harshness which just fueled Ichigo's ire.
"Then what about what he said to Emma about her parents, huh? Is that not harsh enough for you?" Ichigo snarled, brown eyes blazing like a forest fire unchecked. "You going to defend the fact he told one of your charges that she was abandoned and left to die by her parents?"
Ichigo scoffed derisively, a venomous sneer curling his lips. "You make me sick."
And with that, Ichigo grabbed Emma's hand and led her out the door, leaving behind a shell-shocked audience while doing so.
They went out for ice cream ("How the hell can you not like chocolate? Everyone likes chocolate!" "Too sweet. Now eat it before it melts. I'm not buying you a second one if you drop it.") and went to the ferry where the ships were docked and the waves were gently lapping.
It was a bit chilly from the sea breeze, but Emma didn't mind. Ichigo's warmth when sitting right beside her made it bearable, along with the green coat she never takes off nowadays snuggling her upper body.
"Thanks." She muttered under her breathe, looking down so she didn't have to embarrass herself or Ichigo any further.
Ichigo patted her shoulder with an awkwardness that Emma couldn't help but smile at, his tone sincerely warm when he spoke again.
"Anytime."
Nobody, especially Kevin, ever bothered her again after the incident.
Holly Emerson, Emma's strict but caring social service worker, had interrogated Ichigo relentlessly over his job, home life, family, and countless other subjects. Though Emma didn't have to be present during the questioning, Emma insisted on getting involved, not wanting to throw Ichigo to the wolves on his own. The knowing look Ichigo threw her way told her he was aware of what she was trying to do.
He never once protested her being there.
Ms. Emerson seemed to have taken note of his acceptance of Emma and attempted to some degree soften her approach. When they reached the subject of Ichigo's family, the orange haired man's hands clenched, a flicker of wretched loss passing his eyes.
"None." His rough voice was impressively steady and even. "They're dead."
Ms. Emerson didn't ask again.
Emma learned through the questioning that Ichigo was a doctor at a small hospital nearby, a fact that surprised her entirely. She had thought for sure he would have a job that required being physically active, considering how fit he appeared to be. Ms. Emerson was better at covering her skepticism at his career choice and moved on by asking what his working hours were and such. After that, Ichigo revealed he lived in a small bought apartment space that would be enough space for two, with a trust fund to back up him up.
Ms. Emerson's eyebrows shot to the hairline at the reveal while Emma had blurted out, "You're loaded?" with disbelief. Ichigo's embarrassed scowl only confirmed it.
The constant questioning continued until the end when Ms. Emerson suddenly turned to Emma, her expression solemn yet earnest.
"Emma, do you want Mr. Kurosaki to adopt you?" she asked in a gentle tone. Emma froze at the question, mind tripping over itself. She registered the fact Ichigo was also watching her, face calm and impassive.
Did she? Did she really?
To be honest, she hadn't really thought too much over it. She just assumed she would, seeing how so many people were going through the trouble of getting it done, especially Ichigo. There were passing thoughts at the beginning that she could maybe use the adoption to escape the orphanage and run away again without the constant supervision that prevented her from doing so here. Slowly though, she wasn't so sure about her plan.
She liked Ichigo, Genuinely, actually liked him.
Excluding Lily – who she has mixed feelings over now that she had some time to reflect over the other girl's situation – she couldn't remember the last time that happened. Ms. Emerson could be a possibility seeing how she really did care about her wellbeing, but she was too professional, too cold to get close to.
Ichigo, though, was direct bordering on rude. He was surly, contradicting, and just as stubborn as her, maybe even more. They didn't always agree on things, but he respected her opinions and decisions, letting her be as independent as she wanted. It was a novel feeling, knowing that someone trusted her to make her own decisions. Like now.
She thought back to the short walks to the park Ichigo managed to get permission from Ms. Emerson, since everyone else was too scared to go anywhere near the orange haired man to be asked. She recalls how Ichigo defended her against Kevin and the biased caretakers who see her as nothing but a troublemaker, and how it ended up being the best day she ever had.
But most of all, she still even now remembers the instant kinship she felt when they first met, shared loneliness making it seem as if they were the only two people in the world who could ever understand the other.
So with little to no hesitation, she looked directly at Ichigo with a small grin ready on her face.
"Yeah, I'd like that." She said confidently, and watched as Ichigo replicated her grin.
~A~
Ichigo's place was surprisingly tidy.
Everywhere she looked, from the front entrance to all the rooms, not a speck of dust was evident anywhere, everything neatly arranged and easy to reach.
She shook her head. No guy could be this clean. At least, not from her experience.
Hell, he was probably neater than her. The thought for some reason ticked her off a bit.
She hadn't had any real, previous expectations on what kind of place Ichigo lived in before coming. She just assumed it would be a bit cramped and not much considering it was just an apartment. She was wrong.
Though the place was a bit bare in some areas like the kitchen and the bathrooms, the living room instantly drew her attention from just how many books seemed to overflow the bookcases against the wall. The coal colored couch and armchair along with the mahogany table barely registered in her mind as she stared flabbergasted at the impressive collection.
"Holy crap." She said out loud dumbly before whirling around to see Ichigo intently watching her reaction. "Why the hell do you have so many books dude?"
Ichigo shrugged as if this wasn't a huge deal. She was tempted to bang her head against something at the lack of reaction.
"Lots of these are medical books from my old man. Brought a whole crate of books with me when I came here." Ichigo grimaced as if visiting an unpleasant memory. "It took a lot of damn trouble to bring them. And as for the rest," Ichigo shrugged again. "I just like reading. The books here in America are a lot more diverse."
"Yeah, no kidding." Emma deadpanned. Without her permission, her feet were drawing itself toward the shelves until her fingers were able to touch the spines of the tomes. The musty smell of paper filled her lungs as she breathed in, reminding her of the old libraries she used to hide away in when still running from the authorities.
Used to, because she had a home now. Oh how things have changed.
She felt Ichigo patiently standing where she left him, probably observing her to see if she liked the place so far. At one point, she raised an eyebrow when she found one particular shelf full of books specifically dedicated to one author. She spun around to look at him with incredulous disbelief.
"Shakespeare? You're a fan of Shakespeare?" she couldn't help but repeat. Much to her astonishment, a bright redness creeped up Ichigo's cheeks as he turned his head to scowl furiously away from her direction.
"Shut up. I like his work, okay?" the Japanese all but barked out. Emma couldn't help but start to laugh, the sudden image of Ichigo dramatically reciting lines of Shakespearean poetry while wearing a frilly costume making it suddenly hard to breathe. Ichigo rolled his eyes at her with great annoyance as she laughed herself sick from the mental image.
"You going to laugh yourself to death, or do you want to see your room?" he grumbled out with no real anger.
Well, that shut her up fast. It took a few moments to get her bearings, though she was still grinning like an idiot in the end.
"Lead the way good sir." She mockingly ordered. She received a magnificent glower in return.
"You're lucky I like you kid." He muttered before striding away.
They ended up going towards the end of the hallway, with Ichigo pointing out how his room was next to hers in case she needed anything. When they entered in her new room, she couldn't help the small intake of breathe when she saw what was waiting for her.
The walls, unlike the rest of the washed out colored house, were light green like her eyes. The room was a lot more spacious than what she was used to, but not enough to be uncomfortable. There was a twin sized bed with midnight blue covers tucked over it and a writing desk against the wall. There was a closet – a closet she didn't have to share with anyone else – and a wardrobe next to it.
But best of all, there was a window that showed outside, the view showing the streets full of people walking to and forth their destinations. The sight made her feel like she's not trapped or jailed and she absolutely loved it.
"You can decorate the room whatever you like." Ichigo's gruff voice sounded slightly nervous, her silence weighing the room. "If you don't like the walls and everything, we can always repaint and replace everything else if you want-"
He was cut short when she darted towards him and wrapped her arms around his torso, head resting on his chest. He froze, body completely still with his arms wavering over her like hesitant butterfly wings, for once unsure of what to do. She hugged him harder, overwhelmed by what he was giving her and so very thankful to this odd but kind person who willingly changed her world without her ever asking.
She felt Ichigo start to place his arms around her and immediately pulled away, looking up to see Ichigo looking at her with a rather baffled, slightly panicked expression. She smiled a bit at the sight and ignored the way her eyes watered from the dust in the room that didn't exist.
"I love it." She said, clearing her throat when she realized how clogged up she sounded. Ichigo gave her a long look before finally turning his mouth up into a heartfelt, crooked grin that she was starting to realize was the closest thing to a real smile from him. To her surprise, he reached out and ruffled her hair which made her squawk in indignation. The sound turned the grin into a smirk.
"Good to hear."
She scowled.
Jerk.
~A~
The two occupants of the apartment adjusted quickly to their arrangement. Ichigo's shifts were in the afternoons and night, which meant they would be able to meet in the mornings before Ichigo went off to work. Since it was near the end of December, winter break for students was still going, which was the perfect time for Emma to register for school for Fall since she had a lot of catching up to do before then.
Though she did have some schooling, she had skipped lots of the basic material for a few years due to running away. Ichigo had warned her that she had to know all the material up until high school before she would be able to go and that the high school she would be going agreed to these conditions.
"For now though," Ichigo had said while sitting with her on the coach, a newly installed television in front of them because Emma insisted she wasn't going to be a bookworm like him. "Let's just get you used to being here before we worry about that. It's only been a few days since you came, so it's fine."
Their routine was simple. Ichigo would get up at eight and wake up Emma to make them both breakfast ("You can cook?! ... Is it poisoned?" "Why the hell do you sound so skeptical? Eat your French toast!") then leave for work at noon. Before then, he cooks up lunch and dinner for Emma and puts it in the fridge while teaching Emma the recipes just in case he can't cook for her if he has to leave early. And for the rest of the day, Emma lounges around the apartment and finishes the school chapters she's supposed to read and learn for the Fall term.
It took a week for Ichigo to notice that she was struggling with her work. So every night he came back and when he was free on the weekends, he checked her work and slowly went over the material with her until late in the night. She was worried about the issue because while she would be able to pull of late nights since she had nowhere to be, Ichigo had work. When she brought it up to him, Ichigo easily waved off her concerns.
"I'll just drink another cup of coffee then I'm good." A grimace passed his face. "I don't get that much sleep anyways."
His response wasn't comforting and only pissed her off. She and Ichigo argued for a good half an hour before they compromised that they both have to sleep by eleven at the latest, no exceptions included.
So the lessons continued. She was surprised to find he was a pretty good teacher, steady and patient as she clumsily went through the work.
"How come you're so good at this?" Emma asked him once while they were reviewing over headache-inducing Algebra that made her want to shoot herself. Ichigo went completely still at the question and Emma instantly regretted asking. His shoulders were taut lines and he suddenly looked so weary and defeated in a way she hated.
Ichigo should never look like that. It didn't suit him at all.
He ran a tired hand through his hair and sighed, a thousand mile stare hazing his usually focused gaze.
"I used to help my younger sisters when they needed help with their homework." He plopped the bombshell on her quietly, making her freeze at this new piece of news. This was the first time she's ever heard him talk about his family, let alone mention anything about having siblings. There were no pictures anywhere around the apartment to prove this.
She swallowed hard.
"What happened?"
The change was swift, the Ichigo who she got to know disappearing in the blink of an eye to be replaced by someone else entirely. There was an ugly, angry tortured look twisting Ichigo's features into something terrifying. It made Ichigo's outrage on Emma's behalf for Kevin's mocking look practically tranquil compared to the expression on Ichigo's face now. She tried not to show how her hands shook at the look and hid them between her legs.
Just as suddenly as it appeared, the anger faded and Ichigo closed his eyes, whole body slumping and turning listless. He looked completely wrung out, as if all the anger was draining away from him to leave him as an empty corpse. She hated the look even more than him looking ready to giving up.
"The bast- Someone killed them." Ichigo's voice was full of agony with what she thought for sure was misplaced guilt – because if there was one thing she knew for sure about Ichigo was that he would never intentionally hurt someone he cared about, and it sounded like he loved his sisters a lot from how much pain he seemed to be under even now from their deaths – that Emma wanted to erase but didn't know how.
She thought back to how other than the books, there had barely been anything personal in the apartment when she first moved in. She hadn't liked it so she had gone to the department store to buy some things to decorate the apartment a bit.
(Ichigo had entrusted her with a credit card with a limited but quite a lot money at the beginning with a stern warning to not go overboard. She had immediately denied taking it at the beginning without even having to think about it because she didn't even trust herself to not run off like she had planned at the beginning before getting to really know Ichigo.
Ichigo had snorted and waved away her worries easily and told her he trusted her to make the right choice, an ambiguous answer that basically told her he would be okay with whatever choice she made, whether it was running or staying with him.
Sometimes, she thought Ichigo put way too much faith into her and the lack of judgement made her nervous because she didn't know how far Ichigo's boundary of patience was. For the first time in her life, she didn't want to screw up the one good thing that has ever happened to her and that expectation weighed her down and sometimes made her want to go on a panic frenzy.
So she had taken the credit card and tried to shove down the urge to punch the orange haired still weirdo who smirked with triumph at her acceptance. She'll never understand the way his wacky mind worked.)
Imagine the Japanese's surprise when he came back home after work to see almost every wall from the hallways to the living room covered with colorful posters of every genre.
Emma had included some of her tastes in the posters. Michael Jackson and The Beatles suited her musical tastes, while nature backgrounds like deep green forests and deserts suited Ichigo's, the scenery having a calming effect on the man. Emma had nearly collapsed on the floor from laughter when Ichigo had given her a blistering, still somewhat bemused glare at her when he found the Shakespearean quoted poster plastered on his room's door.
She thought the words, "The most peaceable way for you, if you do take a thief, is, to let him show himself what he is and steal out of your company." were appropriate.
It was obvious though that Ichigo didn't feel any real ire about the sudden redecoration. He almost looked like he was trying not to smile, though it was sometimes hard to tell from how tightly reigned he was with his emotions.
But the message she sent had been clear. She wasn't going to leave anytime soon. Otherwise, she wouldn't have even bothered doing something like this. And the hope that she filled in at least some of that haunting, hollow loneliness Ichigo seemed to carry with him at every step left her satisfied with her work.
So just like then, she gently grabbed Ichigo's trembling hands, hers now steady instead, in a comforting gesture that she prayed would wash away the sadness Ichigo was feeling at the moment. It was a familial gesture she wasn't used to giving, but she was willing enough to try.
Almost absently, Ichigo rewrapped their hands so he could rub his fingers on her knuckles in a soothing manner that seemed second nature to him. She wondered if Ichigo had done this to his little sisters and her chest burst with happiness at the thought of Ichigo thinking their relationship has come close as that.
They sat like that at the dining table for hours, math forgotten as both just drew comfort from each other's company in peace.
"Thanks kid." Ichigo murmured, face smoothed out and calm now with raw gratefulness in his tone.
"Anytime." She answered back, and meaning it.
~A~
Ichigo stood by the front door waiting for her while grumbling under his breathe about women and their long process of getting ready to go outside – which was totally unfair seeing how she's a lot less girly than most and preferred comfort over looks.
"We don't have all day princess. Emerson's waiting at the restaurant right now. That woman's been haggling for a meeting for a month."
"You do realize it's pretty rude to just call her by her last name, right?"
"Do I look like I give a damn? And that's rich coming from you, you little brat."
"Litt- How the hell am I little? I'm fifteen!"
"Exactly. You're littler than me so it fits. Now shut up and put on a jacket. You'll catch a cold."
"... Fine. There, happy?"
"Ecstatic. Now come on kid."
"You are such a bastard."
Ichigo rolled his eyes heavily as he automatically held out his hand so she could take it which she did with ease. The warmth of his calloused hand made the January cold untouchable to her.
"Love you too Emma."
She snorted and squeezed his hand.
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